The Mysterious Case of the Missing Canes
by laurasmileygirl
Summary: Matt keeps losing his canes. Karen can't understand it.


Matt wasn't really a forgetful person. He was flaky, sometimes, but not forgetful.

Which was why Karen couldn't for the life of her understand how the man managed to constantly lose his canes.

"A cane robber," Foggy had declared loudly when he heard Matt asking Karen if she wouldn't mind ordering him another online... for the second time that week.

Matt raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"Someone is stalking you to steal your canes and sell them on Amazon! And you're feeding right into it by buying them back. You should write your name on your cane, wait for it to be stolen, order a new one, and see if it has your name on it."

Karen couldn't help giggling at Matt's extremely unimpressed face.

"I'm not writing my name on my cane."

"Or maybe one of us should follow you and watch for the cane robber. Maybe it's a blind hobo who can't afford a cane. Just like you're going to be if you have to keep buying new ones."

Matt sighed. "I just forget them, Fog."

"How can you forget something you need to get around?"

He scoffed. "It's not like I can't walk."

"Yeah, you can walk. You can walk right into more furniture or maybe into buildings or doors, add to that impressive bruise collection."

Foggy nodded at Matt's face. The taking-out-the-trash bruises were slowly fading to yellow, but they were still discernible if you looked closely. Karen thought back to when he first got his taking-out-the-trash bruises. Had he been missing his cane then? Probably.

"You should get-"

"No, I'm not getting a dog."

And that was the end of that particular conversation, although it would be repeated many times.

"Um... Karen, could you-"

"Again, Matt?" Karen asked incredulously. He'd made his way to her desk as soon as he'd stepped through the door, fingers brushing against the doorframe as he entered. It must have been an arduous trip to work. He was three hours late today, and Foggy had spent at least two of them phoning Matt over and over and then describing to Karen in great detail the lecture he was going to give him.

"Might as well buy a bunch of them, Karen," Foggy yelled from his office. "Save on shipping."

He emerged seconds later. "You have to get a dog."

"The only reason you want me to get one is so that you can pet it."

"Objection!"

"Overruled."

"Matt!"

Matt groaned. "I'm not getting a dog!"

Foggy grabbed his arm before he could make his slow way to his office.

"Seriously, how does this keep happening? Do your pockets all have holes?"

The next time that Matt lost a cane, Karen wouldn't have known if not for the fact that the box of canes in the office - yes, she had ordered in bulk - had one missing.

When the next one disappeared, though, Foggy noticed. He glanced at the box as he came in, did a double take, and burst into Matt's office. Matt didn't even flinch at the bang the door made against the wall, almost as if he'd been expecting it.

"That's it! I'm getting you a dog for Christmas!"

"No, you're not."

"How much are they, anyway?"

"More than canes," Matt said, getting back to work.

"Not when you have to buy as many as you do." He turned to Karen. "Seriously, how much?"

"Ten dollars for the cheap ones," Karen recited, having learned the prices by heart. "Over fifty for the best ones. Do you want a good one or a flimsy one that will probably fall apart in a few days, Matt?"

Matt opened his mouth to answer, but Foggy cut him off. "Great! It will fall apart at about the time he loses it."

They ordered the cheapest cane.

Then, Matt and Foggy had their big argument. Karen had known it was bad, but she didn't realize quite how bad it was - and how longterm the effects - until Matt ran out of ordered-in-bulk canes.

Matt sidled up to her desk, fingertips brushing along the edge of the wood. "Um, Karen-"

"No!" Foggy said loudly as he burst out of his office with the force of a hurricane. "No more canes."

Karen ignored him, already opening up Amazon.

Foggy slammed her laptop shut, ignoring her cries of protest. She tried to push him away, but he was surprisingly strong. She gave up and settled for glaring at him while he glared at Matt. Of course, not being able to see Foggy's glare, Matt continued to stand with his fingertips on the desk, stoic as ever.

"We're enabling him!"

She rolled her eyes. "Enabling him to get around, maybe-"

"If he wants to get around, he should stop losing his canes!"

Karen stood, face flushed, preparing to give Foggy the verbal lashing of his life-

And a client walked in, which was such a rare and exciting occurrence that canes were forgotten.

That didn't stop Karen from ordering more before she went home that night.

A lot of things made a lot of sense once Karen discovered that Matt was Daredevil: the bruises, the unanswered calls... the canes.

Oddly, it didn't quite click until he asked her to order a new one.

"There's no way you lose them. What actually happens to them?" She asked, folding her arms.

Matt looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I just sort of... throw them. Usually into a dumpster."

She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. Karen's jaw dropped. "A dumpster? _Why_?!"

"Just parkour to whatever alleyway you threw it into and get it," Foggy said. "Or don't throw them into the trash. I bet they're a lot easier to get if you don't throw them into a pile of garbage. Or, wait, here's an idea: put it in your pocket! Or don't go Daredeviling during the day!"

"I only do it if I have to, Foggy. And it would fall out of my pocket."

Karen closed her laptop. "Sorry, Matt, but I'm with Foggy on this one. Just go and get it."

"People would find it weird seeing a blind man rummaging through a trash bin in an alleyway-"

"You'd sense them coming," Foggy pointed out.

"-I'd smell like garbage-"

"Whose fault is that?"

"-and super senses aren't actually that useful when it comes to specifics, like finding a cane in a pile of garbage. It's the same temperature as the other trash, it makes no noise, it's usually buried, so no unusual air currents to feel-"

"Put it somewhere else, then," Karen said.

"People might find it and trace it back to me."

Foggy rolled his eyes. "Just go get the cane."

Matt cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. "I actually tried today, just because I figured you'd react like this. They collected the trash."

Karen ordered an expensive cane, although she assured him that it was the last time she'd ever order a cane for him. It was, at least for a while, but it came at a price. Karen had never expected to spend so much of her time digging through dumpsters.


End file.
